


sugar sweet (good enough to eat)

by sinntowin



Series: endless curiosities [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Breeding, Clothed Sex, Cock Warming, Come Inflation, Feminization, Fingering, Hand Jobs, Is there such a thing as sexy bathing without any actual sex happening?, Kinda, Knotting, Lingerie, Love Bites, M/M, Manipulation, Mating, Neck Kissing, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, Scenting, Shaving, Stiles is a Sneaky Boy, Top Peter Hale, boys in lingerie, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinntowin/pseuds/sinntowin
Summary: Stiles discovers the magic of subtle suggestion to get what he wants (spoiler: it's Peter Hale).orPeter Hale thinks he's in control but Stiles Stilinski knows otherwise.





	sugar sweet (good enough to eat)

**Author's Note:**

> guess who finally posted this!! this was created due to a prompt from [tazzlest](http://tazzlest.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, somehow this became the longest oneshot i've ever written, sorry for taking so long lmao
> 
> [my writing side blog](http://sinntowin.tumblr.com/) is open for prompts, so if you'd like something specifically written i'll see what I can do!
> 
> also sorry in advance for any spelling/ grammatical mistakes, I don't have a beta so they might happen

 

It wasn’t unusual for Peter to come home to find his human catnapping on his bed after running pack errands for his incompetent alpha - in fact, it had become a common occurrence.

Peter had made no move to dissuade Stiles from the habit either, instead he was very much enamored with his Stiles-scented sheets. It meant that even when his human was out doing pack related business - which meant he wouldn't be coming back to his bed - he would still have the memory of his scent buried in the sheets.

It was, however, more than a little strange to find Stiles, completely nude (not completely uncommon, but enough so to give Peter a very pleasant surprise) in the middle of the day, nestled into his silken sheets (which were a recent purchase he now definitely didn't regret).

The werewolf couldn’t help the low, throaty rumble that tickled his throat at such a lovely sight.

The human’s long, slender limbs blushed a delicate peach in his sleep, contrasting beautifully with the cream sheets, and even in his sleep Stiles was on his back, belly bared in unconscious submission; his head tilted in a way that flaunted his slender neck.

Peter’s teeth itched to bury themselves in that tender column of flesh.

Blazing eyes trailed their way down his chest, alighting on his human’s sweet nipples, which had the same peachy hue as the rest of his body. They were still toothsome with fat despite Stiles willowy stature, and would turn a lovely rosy colour when grazed with Peter’s sharp teeth.

Ignoring the steadily rising heat that was beginning in his stomach, the ‘were trailed his eyes down even further, eyes lingering on the taut skin of Stiles’ stomach before moving further down and coming to rest on his human's sweet cock, resting soft and flushed in the crease of where his thigh met his groin.

Peter felt his mouth watered, and it was only the budding idea forming in the back of his mind that kept him from waking Stiles (or maybe not) and ravishing him until all he could remember was how to scream Peter’s name.

After another long slow look at Stiles he steeled his resolve and went back downstairs to do some research.

And if he did happen to take a picture on his way out who was to know?

 

* * *

 

Stiles stared curiously at the expensive looking bag sitting innocently on Peter’s bed.

Peter was in the shower and had left a note on the marble island in his kitchen to just go straight into their ( _their,_ Stiles felt pathetic by getting so excited over such a stupid thing even after months of dating) bedroom.

When Peter left him notes like this it usually meant something interesting was about to happen. And when Stiles said interesting, he meant sexy things. Sexy, sexy things.

The bag was black with a matte finish and a very french name in gold that Stiles couldn't even begin to pronounce. Another note was in front of the bag.

_‘Open me’._

“Is this what Alice felt like?” he couldn't help but mutter to himself after a long, slow blink.

Wasting no time he quickly dropped himself down on the bed after grabbing the bag, peering inside with interest.

Black tissue paper obscured his view of whatever that was inside and the teen eagerly jammed his hands into the bag, tongue sticking out as he rummaged around before his hand encountered something unexpectedly… silky.

Stiles slowly brought his hand out, his fingers still wrapped in the gratifyingly soft fabric and promptly froze.

He held the garment up with both hands to get a better image of what he was holding.

A flustered blush slowly rose in his cheeks and his embarrassment only worsened when his libido raised an interested eyebrow.

It was a… dress? No, too short… too see-through to be a dress. As far as Stiles could tell it was some kind of babydoll as he held it up by its thin straps.

The skirt was made of ruffled, transparent white silk with delicate lace trim adorning the very bottom, that when Stiles hesitantly held it up to his own body only came to the very tops of his thighs. An equally white satin ribbon wrapped around where his ribs would be, tied in a delicate bow. The top half of the babydoll were what Stiles could only describe as half cups, the plush but lightly padded material would stop just above his nipples - then gave way into more lovely creamy transparent lace in what he thought he had heard Lydia refer to as a ‘sweetheart neckline’ before while talking to Allison about prom dresses (completely by chance by the way, not like he was listening in or anything).

The teen tried to silence his brain from running away with itself as he peeked into the back bag again and saw something else hiding in the back tissue paper.

This time he couldn’t quite silence his ‘eep’ when he pulled out what could only be a pair of glossy panties (decorated with another delicate satin bow front and centre) with a garterbelt and stockings to match. The stockings would come all the way up to the middle of his thighs, much more opaque than the babydoll however still slightly transparent, and ended in the same beautifully detailed lace at the tops where they would fasten to the garterbelt.

Stiles’ eyes then caught on another innocent looking note that must have fallen out of the bag when he was rummaging through it.

This time the message read _‘Come into the bathroom’._

After carefully placing the silken lingerie on the equally silken bed-sheets (gently and spread out as to not crease the silk), he treaded as quietly as possible over to the door despite knowing that the werewolf could probably hear him and pushed the door open.

He blinked into the room twice in confusion as he saw Peter reclining on the plush ottoman he kept next to the freestanding tub (Stiles still can’t come to terms with how loaded his boyfriend is) with his usual casual black v neck and lounge pants, a battered copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War sat next to him.

“You weren’t even showering,” the teen narrowed his eyes, a blush still high on his cheeks.  

“No,” the smug smile was irritating as Peter offered no explanation and instead seemed to be intently studying Stiles.

The teen couldn't help but shuffle a little, nervous, under the werewolf’s close scrutiny.

“So... what’s up with the present?” he finally made himself ask, bright eyes focusing sharply on the ‘weres.

“Just a little something I thought of the other day. Do you not like it?” a toothy grin - the wolf will have smelt _exactly_ what Stiles had felt about the lingerie even from the other side of the door, he was just teasing him now.

However Stiles knew exactly what Peter’s game was and only raised a single eyebrow in response, not satisfying him with an answer before asking “So, what’s the real reason for you luring me into the bathroom? Since you’re clearly not using it for it’s actual intended purpose,” Amber eyes lingered on the cover of the book next to Peter with amusement.

“I figured we ought to make you extra pretty so you can match your special gift.” the ‘were leered at the spark in a way that had Stiles fighting not to blush and had to fight his first impulse to flail a little.

“Oh yeah?” He tried to sound challenging but he was pretty sure he just sounded confused.

“Mmhmm,” Peter’s eyes watched him knowingly, no doubt noticing how his heart rate had picked up. Slowly, deliberately, the ‘were leaned over to turn one of the tub taps and the sound of running water filled the empty air of the bathroom and - Stiles was pretty damn sure he shouldn't find that so arousing.

What was he? Was he a newly awakended watersexual? _Would he get a H2Boner?_  

Thankfully Peter interrupted that train of thought, “Will you let me bathe you?”

Without even thinking Stiles gave a dumb nod. It wasn't the first time for something like this to happen, and the human even found it kind of arousing - for Peter it was a scent marking thing, covering Stiles completely with his scent so nobody could confuse who he belonged to.    

And _yes_ , it was also a sex thing. A sexy, sexy sex thing.

Who in their right mind would turn down their hot werewolf boyfriend lavishing attention on their naked bodies with very expensive shower lotion? Not Stiles Stilinski that’s who.

Not even five minutes later the teen was undressed and climbing into faintly rose-scented, pink water trying his best not to feel to self-conscious even though his back was turned to the ‘were and the water was all the way up to his hips; cloudy enough not to be seen easily through.

There was something in the way that Peter was looking at him today, it felt - _different._ It felt more reverent than just admiring and the goosebumps that rose on his pale flesh were more than just a faint chill on his skin.

Peter leaned over Stiles from his perch on the ottoman and flicked on the shower-head attached to the taps and waited for the water to warm before turning it on Stiles. Deft fingers scraped pleasantly against his scalp, making sure the water thoroughly wetted his hair before setting it aside. Then came the shampoo, and conditioner, this time something sweeter, more fruity than Peter’s usual brand - it smelt like peaches - and Stiles hummed happily.

A gentle, soothing rumble had started in the ‘weres chest, making Stiles want to go boneless in satisfaction. When Peter started to speak Stiles almost didn’t register it, almost.

“Such a sweet boy for me,” a sigh.  

“Sitting so prettily for me, like a lovely little doll.” Satisfaction coated every syllable of Peter’s words and Stiles could almost feel his spine start to go liquid at the praise; a creeping kind of arousal beginning to spread through his veins.

Being called pretty was a novelty concept to Stiles, it has always felt like people dismissed him before they had even glanced in his direction, the only attention he’d ever gotten before the whole werewolf fiasco was the negative kind; the obligatory kind as the sheriff's kid.

But with Peter it was something so much different - the older ‘were _doted_ on him, treated him like he was something to be cherished - had witty, sarcastic conversations that stimulated him rather than leaving his mind to stagnate with the lack of intelligent, willing conversationalists.

And Stiles adored the ‘were right back, accepted his flaws and celebrated his assets.

They worked well together.

Now Peter was talking a soft cloth which had been covered with another dainty smelling soap; reverently rubbing it across the human’s skin in firm motions - over the sharp protrusions of his collarbones, down his chest, briskly over his nipples (much to Stiles’ dismay), back up again to his shoulders; arms…

Stiles felt like he was royalty, being held so tightly in his boyfriend’s arms, being gently cleaned - loved.

He was kinda getting emotional, sue him.

Until that warm soapy cloth reached his lower abdomen, because then, _hooooo boy_ \- having a sappy, cutesy lovefest was pushed so far down his to-do list it might as well have been in an alternate universe.

The spark couldn’t quite help the sharp gasp that escaped his lips when Peter’s flannel wrapped hand gently grasped his dick, his hips twitching upwards in little motions.

The ‘were’s gentle hushing had Stiles’ head falling back to rest on his shoulder, little shuddering breaths washing against the older man’s jawline. Stiles was at a loss at how sensitive he was, he was used to things between him and Peter being intense, but not this intense.

A couple of achingly slow pumps later he was let go, and the spark couldn't stop the despairing keen that escaped his open lips.  

Deft hands continued to clean Stiles’ hips, legs, feet - yet his erection was still apparent, his body unable to quell the mounting arousal that lingered from the gentle, adoring touches that graced his quivering flesh.

When Peter brought out a newly bought, expensive looking razor, Stiles nearly nearly up and got out right then, but something about the look on Peter’s face kept him still. After a few more moments of nothing, Peter staring at him patiently and waiting for any sign of unwillingness, the human managed a small huff before twisting himself so that he could place the sole of one foot on the edge of the tub and started at the werewolf impatiently.

The pleased hum that Peter gave in response was enough of a reward in itself, but as the razor was gently dragged across his legs Stiles couldn't quite deny the strange feeling of arousal that came with it. The drag of the razor was almost velvety against his skin ( _how expensive_ was _this thing?_ ), and even while Stiles wasn’t a particularly hairy guy, it was pretty satisfying to see all the smooth skin that was under the hair that he _did_ have, and was excited for the extra sensitivity that came with it ( _because yes, he had shaved his legs before dammit it’s called human curiosity. Also rubbing smooth legs together in bed was very,_ very _, nice thank you very much_ ).

After his legs were finished Peter immediately moved on a little higher up, and Stiles, as he was now pliant with warm, hazy pleasure, didn’t mind all that much, and stretched himself out obligingly. Luckily he still wasn't at full mast, rather at some degree of half boned up, so that his own dick didn't get in the way of Peter shaving the well-managed hair at his crotch.

Stiles was so zoned out that he almost wasn't listening to the sweet, gentle words of praise that Peter was murmuring to him, instead he just let them wash over him. Eventually, almost all the hair other than the hair on his head and arms was gone.

Peter used the shower attachment to wash the suds and any remaining hair from Stiles’ milky skin, then proceeded to help him out of the bath, quickly wrapping a fluffy cream towel the teen to protect him against the slight chill of the bathroom; making him sit on the ottoman again.

The ‘were pulled the towel over Stiles’ head and continued to dry his hair thoroughly, then patted the rest of his body down.

Stiles then clung onto Peter for dear life as the werewolf suddenly hauled him up into his arms when he was deemed fully dry and proceeded to carry the teen into the bedroom.

Stiles felt his breath catch again when he caught sight of the bag still sat innocently on the bed, and after a glance at his boyfriend saw the criminal curl of his lips staring at the same bag.

“So, what’s the big idea?” Stiles tried to puff himself up the best he could while being cradled like a pretty princess in Peter’s arms, but even he could tell he was about as intimidating at as a wet kitten.  

Stiles was placed on the side of the bed and Peter loomed over him with that naughty grin still in place.

“I wanted to confirm something,” there was something hungry curling in the undertones of that cultured tenor that made Stiles all the more aware of the predator that Peter could be; was.

“Which is?” Stiles’ eyes were lit, mahogany glowing amber from within with the anticipation pressing up under his skin.

“If you’ll be even more of a pretty little bitch under me if you’re dressed like one,” hot breath against his ear.

Something that wasn't just impatience was building under Stiles’ skin, causing the sparse hair on his arms to lift and tremble with a barely there crackle of electricity that his spark produced. Peter’s nostrils flared as the smell of ozone amalgamated to the heady Stiles-smell of wood smoke and pine - tinted with edge of rose from the scented water from the bath and peach shampoo in a way that was far from unpleasant - and knew he better get the show on the road before he just pinned his human down and his wicked way with him, surprise or no surprise.

Leaning over his human’s bare body, Peter reached for the bag containing his newest purchase and placed it beside him. Stiles’ breath caught as the werewolf knelt before him, watched as his wide hands contrasted wonderfully with the delicate, glossy fabric of the stockings.

Wordlessly, the werewolf began to dress Stiles, sliding the expensive feeling fabric over the teen’s smooth and newly sensitive legs, attentatively making sure that there were no creases in the fine fabric and positioning the lacey top of the stockings perfectly, the creamy lace ending mid-thigh, the closeness of this hands to Stiles’ plump cock a cruel tease, so close but not nearly close enough.

After the second stocking was positioned, next came the panties, which were another horrible tease as the slid smoothly up his bare thighs, Peter urging him to stand up so that they could be pulled up all the way. They were much more sheer than Stiles had first thought, but still decorated with pretty white lace at the bottom, the fabric was so clingy and silky against his needy cock that he couldn't quite contain the desperate whine that escaped his lips.

The panties pressed his erection up and against his abdomen, the thin elastic band around his hips not fully covering his cock, leaving roughly a third exposed. In the light of the bedroom Stiles could see the sticky-wet tip of his cock glisten and his blush was so hot it burned his face, only getting worse when his cock jumped as Peter kissed his hipbone just above his new underwear, nuzzing the delicate flesh there.

Then came the garter belt, pulled gently up to his waist, not sparing his oversensitive erection and swiftly fastening the clasps to the top of his stockings.

In between Peter reaching for the babydoll and fastening the clasps, Stiles definitely saw those hungry eyes sweep over him, and he was probably quite the sight - a gangly teenager in lingerie, what could be better?

However, that seemed to be Peter’s type, and since Stiles was the one who found a excruciatingly pedantic, murdering werewolf with a knot on his dick right up his alley he didn't think he was one to judge.  

Stiles blindly raised his arms as the werewolf began to slide the babydoll over his head. It was pulled gently into place and then he wasn't being touched at all. The teen blinked with hazy eyes up at his lover, his mind suddenly going quiet with all but the heady throbbing of arousal lighting up  his body and the desperate desire to display himself before Peter, to entice him to touch his needy body.

There was a sharp bite of recognition when the flash of a phone camera broke him slightly out of his stupor, a heated blush taking over his body even as he stretched his limbs out to give the camera a better view, unable to stop himself from giving Peter what he wanted.

“You better keep those private,” Stiles eventually managed, tongue feeling thick even though all of his blood was surely pooling in other places than his head.

“And you should know better that I am a very possessive man, and you are very much _mine_ ,” the last word was spoken in such a way that it made the teen’s cock _twitch_.

Dear Lord, he was so fucking gone on Peter Hale.

The teen made no move to resist as the ‘were pushed him back on the plush bedding, only watching meekly as the older man snapped a couple more photos on his way.

Eventually the expensive smartphone was thrown carelessly over Peter’s shoulder and landing with a thump on the floor, and Stiles’ neck was being aggressively scented by a purring ‘were.

“I’m thinking about making that my phone wallpaper,” the conversational tone of the statement surprised a laugh out of Stiles - that Peter could act so unnaffected in situations like this really was a testament to how much self-control he has. The man could bullshit his way out of anything, and the teen would be lying if he said that he didn't find that hot as hell.

However, Stiles could also feel something that definitely wasn't cell phone pressing against his thigh, so maybe Peter wasn't so unaffected after all.

Then, suddenly before the teen could form an answer (probably on purpose, the dick), Stiles’ limbs twitched spastically at an unexpected bite at the collarbone, then the hot, soothing tongue that followed.

“Shithead,” Stiles gasped, his hindbrain revelling in the dark chuckle it drew from the man on top of him.

“Hush sweetheart, let me take care of you, hmm?” Strong arms slid under Stiles’ slender hips and fluidly brought him to sit in Peter’s lap, who’s back was leaning the bed’s headboard.

The human looked down at Peter through his lashes, breathing audibly; watching as the ‘weres gaze caught on the tongue that darted out to wet his lips.

“I was wrong.” Peter confirmed as if he was speaking to himself.

“Hmm?” the human asked dazedly.

“You look just as much of a pretty little bitch when you're dressed like that on top of me too,” a wicked flash of teeth. Stiles snorted a sound that quickly turned into a gasp as the ‘were tugged down the lacy top of the babydoll to catch one of his nipples between his fingers.

“I love how sensitive you are here, just like a pretty little girl,” the older man’s voice was closer to a coo than Stiles had ever heard it and he couldn't help but preen at the praise. He didn't miss Peter’s indulgent smile as he leant in to catch his other nipple between his teeth, biting slowly down until Stiles hissed a little with the mixed _pleasurepain_ from abusing such a sensitive part of his body.

The ‘were nuzzled close and placed slow, loving licks across the rosy little nipple, his other hand gently twisting the other as he listened to his human’s laboured breathing, inhaled the thick scent of their combined arousal that threatened to make his dizzy.

Peter settled in, almost playing with the sweet little bud on his tongue, rolling it, scraping it against his teeth and delighting in the way Stiles’ hips twitched because of it. Suckling soft and slow and then meanly, eventually pulling back to observe his work and nothing in satisfaction the cherry red colour that was all his doing then moving onto the other - Peter wouldn't be surprised if Stiles’ nipples were sore for a couple days after this, and even knowing all the bitching he would receive from it he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

Peter let his human bury his long, clever hands in his hair, wrapping the locks around his fingers and pulling his closer, listened in satisfaction as Stiles gasped and moaned under his breath and in turn brought a hand down to the front of his mate’s pretty panties, feeling up the plump length hidden under the silk, lightly rubbing his fingertips over the sensitive and leaking head.

“ _Peter, fuck_ ,” Stiles managed through clenched teeth, feeling ridiculously aware of his body all at once.

A “Soon, sweetheart,” was murmured against his raw nipple, the little vibrations enough to make him hiccup a sob and tug the ‘weres head even closer in desperation for _something_.

Another smooth transition had Stiles on his back under the ‘were, writhing as he got his mouth on the sweet tip of the teen’s dick, lapping interestedly at the weeping head and revelling in the desperate sounds it drew out of the spark’s contracting throat.

Stiles felt like he was going to crawl out of his own body, even with only the hot, wet touch of Peter’s mouth to his body he felt fucked out.

Stiles was worked over for what felt like hours but could have only been twenty minutes, enduring the sweet gentle caresses of Peter’s hands over his flushed skin; sharp teeth against pulse points, before Peter finally flipped him onto his stomach, pulling his panties down just enough to get to the soft furl of pink in between his cheeks.

Stiles trembled in delight when he felt the ‘were spread him open, arching into the touch hungrily and listening dazedly to the gentle murmurings behind him.

“What a _pretty_ little pussy you have, hmm sweetheart? Pink like candy, such a _pretty_ baby,” the coos threatened to make the teen’s spine go more liquid than it already was, but he fought to keep his hips up and presented to the ‘were, waiting with a rising sense of impatience for Peter to put his mouth right where Stiles wanted it.

Stiles almost sobbed at the first brush of Peter’s lips against his contracting rim, the stinging rasp of his five o’clock shadow against his perineum, the first touch of a hungry wet tongue, the sloppy press of it against his entrance.

Stiles could barely breathe through the sudden onslaught of sensation, it was all he could do to sink his teeth into a cushion by his face to keep his embarrassing noises in.

Peter’s tongue was relentless, pressing and pressing, warming up his clenching entrance until it was sweet and flexible, so slick inside because of excess saliva; making absolutely filthy wet noises as the ‘were ate him out thoroughly.

The teen couldn't help a wet cry as Peter suddenly pressed a long, thick finger into his cramping heat, pressing in and in until he found that something that made his spine bow and legs kick in shock.

Although Stiles guessed it shouldn't be so much of a surprise now that Peter could find his prostate so quickly even after a bit more than a handful of months together, the ‘were _was_ a quick learner… And they both had a _very_ healthy sexual appetite.

“Peter, _Peter holy fuck_ ,” the teen gasped breathlessly, pressing back onto the exquisite pressure on his prostate, keenly aware that his cock was dripping onto the expensive sheets below, knowing it was gonna stain them, before thinking with a filthy thrill that he didn't really mind.

“I know sweetheart, you’re panting for it, aren't you?” the tone did little to really soothe Stiles as he only arched his back harder in demand to be mounted.

“ _Please_ ,” a keen.

“Soon,”

Stiles was forced to lay there was Peter slowly stretched him, determined to take his time, even if taking his time was exactly the last thing on Stiles’ list of things to be doing.

He felt like his entrance was almost gaping with how relaxed Peter’s fingers had made it, soft and tender and open.

Stiles heart jumped when he heard the distinctive jingle of a belt being undone, already eagerly pressing further back, trying to get that fat length inside him already.

The thick wet heat of Peter’s cock dragged directly across the sticky sweet centre of him, once, twice, enough for him to fling a couple of breathless curse words at the ‘were for testing his patience even further only get a tender stroke of a hand at his hip in response.

As soon as Stiles had resolved to wait Peter’s cruel teasing out, knowing for a fact the bastard got off on it (that Stiles did too didn’t matter here, _shut up inner monologue_ ), the ‘were suddenly notched the thick head of his dick into his sweet little gape, causing Stiles mind to go almost completely quiet.

Small hiccupping breaths fluttered in the teens lungs, his teeth had released the expensive bed sheets and his eyes stared blindly as his body went into hyper focus on the intensity of Peter splitting him on his cock, slowly and gently pulling Stiles’ slender waist back into the cradle of his hips.

“That’s it sweetheart, breathe for me,” and as much as Peter sounded unaffected, through his haze Stiles was able to hear the underlying tension that was hidden there.

_Not so unaffected after all, then._ Stiles thought to himself with heavy satisfaction.

These thoughts, however soon evaporated as Peter began fucking him at a tortuously slow pace, pulling out unhurriedly and pressing back in just the same, rubbing along Stiles’ insides in a way that made him want to cry with how intimate it felt.

That they were both still pretty much fully clothed (in Stiles’ case, as fully clothed as you could be in full lingerie) added a naughty edge to the atmosphere, the teen’s hindbrain still taking great pleasure in the feeling of the silky underwear against his skin.

Peter was kneeling now so that he almost covered his lover head to toe, pressing his body under his own, keeping Stiles right where he wanted him - at just the right angle to press as deep as possible.

Stiles was shuddering, thighs clenching and unclenching with every other thrust, the beginning of the filthy, slick sounds of getting pounded into the mattress, the ‘weres now heavily flowing precome slicking Stiles’ insides to the point of overflowing.

Peter rutted almost desperately into the give of his body, pressing and pressing and pressing, stuffing the teen so full it felt like he could barely breathe.

The ‘were was hardly pulling out now.

Their fucking was now grind dirty enough to make Stiles’ vision turn a little black around the edges - his prostate was tapped so hard it felt like he was being bruised on the inside.

Peter’s teeth itched to sink themselves into the delicate skin at Stiles neck and groaned in heavy satisfaction when he did, listening to the sweet submissive sound it drew from the teen under him.

The base of the Peter’s cock had become tender and itchy hot, and his entire body was growing taut in primal need with the onset of orgasm.

“ _Fuck,_ ” the ‘were gritted desperately, hips stuttering as his knot started to swell, his hands clutching Stiles hips too hard, knowing it was going to leave bruises and revelling in it.

Stiles’ breath was wild and gasping, and he couldn’t help but stare glassily ahead as his hips pressed back of their own accord.

Stiles didn’t know when he’d started to get off on the sensation of being overfull, maybe during the first couple months of being with Peter, but now he didn’t think it was something he could live without.

The feeling of being fucked open, stuffed full, left dripping and crying from the overstimulation was a high that the teen couldn't get enough of, and he felt it now as he hung off Peter’s knot like a bitch in heat, hands gripping weakly into the expensive sheets and the sweat on his skin seeping into lingerie that probably cost more than he cared to think about.

Stiles was shocked out his stupor as one of Peter’s too warm, wide hands pressed firmly into his abdomen, forcing him to feel just how full he was. The teen could even feel the strong pulses of Peter against his insides as he came, drenching Stiles’ insides and filling him to way past the brim only for it to be forced deeper with no way past the ‘were’s knot.

Stiles muscles started to twitch as like was being electrocuted when Peter’s spare hand closed around his erection, gripping it tightly and stroking slow - hissing in pleasure when it caused the teen to reflexively tighten up around him, pulling another strong wave of pleasure through his veins.

Sobs wracked the teen’s slender frame as he finally reached his climax, seizing and contracting around Peter’s cock sporadically, listening to Peter’s frantic cussing, only muffled by the ‘were’s teeth in his neck.

Stiles was still trembling as Peter gently maneuvered them onto their sides so that they could lay comfortably while they were knotted together, holding him tenderly as they both came down from the high of sex together.

The ‘were was now regretting not completely stripping as his clothes were getting uncomfortable but didn't want to risk shifting and ruining their comfortable position, so he settled in for the long haul, listening to the steady breathing of his human as he drifted into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Stiles awoke the next morning to sun warming his skin and his sometimes homicidal werewolf boyfriend sleeping soundly next to him, looking unfairly attractive even in sleep.

His muscles ached beautifully as he stretched, his lithe limbs arching rather gracefully across the fresh sheets - Peter must have changed them while he was sleeping.

The human also took note of the distinct lack of stickiness he’d expected to wake up to, Peter must have cleaned him up too.

Overwhelming affection clogged the teen’s throat for a few seconds as he watched his boyfriend sleep before his ADHD brain jumped to the apparently cleaned lingerie hung neatly on the door to the bedroom.

(Seriously, no wonder Peter was sleeping if he managed to do all this before Stiles woke up)

The glossy lace and silky material gave him pleasant shivers from the night before, and the teen couldn't help the sly grin that overtook his kiss bruised mouth.

His Lydia approved plan of leaving the blonde’s lingerie catalogues on the den’s mahogany coffee tables and Stiles lounging naked on Peter’s expensive sheets had worked a treat.

He wondered if he could get that ancient bestiary he’d been lusting after for months that way?

_Probably._

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a kudos/ review on the way out!
> 
> come visit me on [my writing side blog](http://sinntowin.tumblr.com/) on tumblr to yell at me about headcanons/ talk kinky fanfic to me.


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